


can't stop now it's already begun

by el_em_en_oh_pee, questceque_cest



Category: Glee
Genre: Exhibitionism, Exposure, Kum Week, Living Together, M/M, Masturbation, Roommates, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 07:59:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_em_en_oh_pee/pseuds/el_em_en_oh_pee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/questceque_cest/pseuds/questceque_cest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The best part about all of this is that usually, on nights that Sam checks himself out in the mirror or whatever it is he’s doing right now, he’s loud enough jerking off at night that Kurt can hear them through their shared wall.</i>
</p><p>Wherein Kurt and Sam take a... certain measure of comfort... in living one thin wall away from each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can't stop now it's already begun

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kum Week Day Two: Living Together. Title taken from "Jerk It Out" by Caesars.

Kurt can already tell that tonight is going to be a good night. When he walks into the bathroom to start his moisturizing routine, Sam has apparently just completely pulled off his shirt and started inspecting himself in the mirror, which is... nice.

Maybe it’s a little creepy, the fact that Kurt pays really close attention to Sam, now that they’re technically living together. Maybe it’s weird that he knows exactly what Sam’s nipples look like (Sam likes to be shirtless a lot, apparently), both regularly and when they’re hard from the cold or something. Maybe he shouldn’t, you know, _listen in_ on Sam at night. Most guys would probably be weirded out if they found out Kurt was doing that - Sam probably would, too.

But Kurt deserves to have something good in his life, and Sam is good. Sam is better than good. Sam is _fine_. Sam would probably appreciate the fact that Kurt appreciates Sam’s body, at least on some level. Right?

It’s totally harmless. Anyway, Kurt has a lot of sexuality to express now that he’s dumped Blaine for getting pissed that some other guy was texting him nice things, even though Blaine totally had a weirdly intense text-and-phone-call relationship with Sebastian Smythe for _months_. It’s not like Kurt ever leaked competition plans to Chandler. It’s not like Blaine hated Chandler’s guts and Kurt continued communicating with him even though he knew that.

Anyway, Blaine never had a chest like Sam’s, which is toned and beautiful in the bathroom lighting (not fluorescent, because _please_ , Kurt uses that mirror daily).

(Kurt does find it funny that he apparently has a thing for guys who do dastardly things to their hair. Sam has stopped coloring his, though, and Blaine hasn’t stopped using half a bottle of gel every morning before school. Kurt likes men who can grow, and adapt their beauty regimens accordingly.)

(Kurt isn’t under any kind of delusion that he has a chance with straight Sam Evans. A bit of harmless voyeurism isn’t going to hurt anyone, though. Especially when Sam, like, puts it all out there in front of him. Literally.)

The best part about all of this is that usually, on nights that Sam checks himself out in the mirror or whatever it is he’s doing right now, he’s loud enough jerking off at night that Kurt can hear them through their shared wall. And that provides a nice... auditory encouragement to Kurt’s own masturbation fantasies.

It’s not really all that weird, though, right? Kurt’s a teenage boy. It’s totally understandable.

\---

 

Ever since Mercedes and Sam went their separate ways a couple weeks ago, Sam has had a lot of spare time. Evenings that would normally be chatting on the phone or out on dates with her were spent lazing around the Hummel-Hudson household.

Sam didn’t mind _that_ much, as he got to hang out with Finn and Kurt a lot more, but he did miss having someone there. Someone that he could laugh with, share secrets with, and, of course, someone he could make out with. Amongst other things.

Recently, in _that_ department, Sam and his left hand have become close acquaintances. He’s always been pretty friendly with himself but his regular masturbation sessions have increased given his current dry spell.

Sam has this routine, you see. After he helps wash up the dishes from dinner with Carole, he goes to the guest room and does a quick evening exercise regime. Nothing too fancy, just some push ups, sit ups, and minimal weight lifting. This usually tires him out, not _too_ much, but enough that he can get into the right frame of mind that’ll help him out later when he “relieves his tension”. Something about endorphins, or whatever.

There’s no full length mirror in the guest room, however, and Sam loves to check himself out afterwards to see if his exercises have had any effect on his abs, so he always goes into the main bathroom to admire his progress.

This also happens to be the time when Kurt will come in to begin his very long moisturizing routine. Kurt is always so precise, too. At exactly 9:30 pm, Kurt will waltz into the bathroom holding a basket full of various creams, soaps, and wipes. And, as always, at precisely 9:30 pm, Sam will be in the bathroom, shirtless, flexing his biceps or tightening his abdominal muscles.

Sam doesn’t think this is weird, not one little bit. He’s seen Kurt shirtless a handful of times and besides, it’s not like Sam has anything to be ashamed of. He _knows_ how good he looks in the flesh and others should know it too, right? Seeing the way Kurt’s eyes widen ever so slightly and his grip on the basket tighten is just enough for Sam.

He says some sort of quick apology for hogging the bathroom, walks out confidently and smirks knowing that Kurt is probably leering from behind (okay most _definitely_ leering) and saunters to his room.

He locks the door, strips all remaining clothes, grabs the box of Kleenex and hand lotion from the nightstand and flops onto his bed. Before, Sam would easily be able to get off just thinking of him and Mercedes being together, but since their breakup, that was territory he did not want to enter. Instead, he closes his eyes and thinks of Kurt’s gaping blue eyes staring hungrily at his chest. For now, this is all Sam needs to fill his masturbatory fantasy fodder.

\---

  


Kurt settles into bed after a nice mug of hot milk, picking up his much-dogeared copy of _Gone With the Wind_ to reread the scene where Scarlett sings to Rhett during their dance in Atlanta.

When he hears the telltale sounds coming from Sam’s room, though, he marks his place in the book and sets it on his bedside table, then switches off his light and reclines in bed. There’s no way he can concentrate on the epic love in the book when there is a (really hot) boy about to like, get off on the other side of the wall. Kurt’s body is so ready for this.

He listens carefully for the first sounds - Sam always starts off quietly. And - yes, there’s the first tiny, tiny noise. Thank God for the thin, thin walls and impressive ductwork in this house that bring the faint creak of Sam’s mattress, and the echo of his moans, through to Kurt’s room.

Kurt licks his palm and slips his hand into his pajama bottoms, stroking himself lightly, slowly. He’s not hard, not yet, but he’s going to be there soon. He lets his eyes fall shut as he listens to Sam through the wall, most of Sam’s moans, along with his loudest breaths, barely reaching Kurt’s ears. He pictures Sam: blond hair falling in his eyes, head tilted forward as he wraps his fist around his cock. Kurt thinks Sam’s cock would probably be thick, flushed dark with blood, and just long enough for gorgeous flashes of it to appear beneath his hand as he works it.

Kurt groans. He’s definitely hard now. He moves his hand like he imagines Sam would move his, dragging up his shaft, twisting a little at the end, then quickly back down again. He bites his lip. He wants to groan at the thought of Sam touching himself the same way that Kurt is doing right now, at the forbidden thought of watching Sam doing it, of doing it together, but like... he doesn’t want Sam to hear him and think that he’s like, getting off to the sounds of Sam getting off.

Which is totally what this is, but. He doesn’t want Sam to feel awkward about it, is all.

\---

  


Sam _totally_ knows that Kurt gets off to him masturbating. It’s kind of hard not to know; Kurt isn’t exactly the master of subtlety, especially when it comes to all the delicious and grotesque sounds he makes during his own pleasure sessions. That high-pitched voice is a dead giveaway when jerking off.

A couple months ago, Sam had become wise to Kurt’s _interest_ in his nightly routine after he had finished in the bathroom, went back to his room, stripped down, and began to touch himself. It started off slowly; Sam had squirted some hand lotion he had bought earlier (he would _never_ dare to use the ones that Carole bought. Or worse, the ones _Kurt_ bought) into his palm and began with a slow, steady rhythm. He had started picturing the cute brunette girl from his geography class taking off her Superman underwear set in his bedroom, but his mind began to wander, and somehow he ended up thinking of going down on Kurt, who was also coincidentally wearing a similar Superman themed set of undergarments. Sam had begun to increase his grip around his shaft, pulling harder as breathy, louder-than-intended groans escaped from his lips. He had continued to jerk himself faster as he pictured his mouth inching deeper down Kurt’s cock as his fingers pulled Sam’s hair. Sam had stopped for a hot minute to fumble more lotion onto his aching cock, when he heard similar moans coming from the room next to him. He continued to gently stroke himself, but was more intent on trying to figure out _what_ Kurt was doing. He heard panting, the squeaking of bed springs, and the ever-so-faint slapping of skin; Sam knew _just_ what Kurt was doing. He rapidly pumped his cock as the thought of Kurt thinking of him when he masturbated sent Sam over the edge. As he had come down from his orgasm, Sam had devilishly smirked to himself. He was going to have fun with this.

That is why on this night, Sam goes into his room, closes his eyes and pictures Kurt’s gaze roving his naked chest in the bathroom a couple minutes ago. He squeezes a little bit of the lotion into his palm and plays with it between his fingers until he hears Kurt’s door shut, signifying he was back in his room from whatever he was doing. A devious grin spreads across his face as he begins to stroke his erection.

Normally, Sam bites his lips and tries to contain his arousal to his own bedroom, but he _wants_ Kurt to hear this time, so he lets out an exaggerated but not unwarranted groan as he grips tighter on his cock. He strains to hear what is happening in Kurt’s room, so he begins to grind his hips and ass into his bed harder than normal in the hopes of sending the loud squeaking of the mattress through the thin air ducts, signaling to Kurt what was transpiring in his room.

Sam lets out another moan as he pictures Kurt shimmy out of his pants and begin to touch himself through his underwear -which were probably not Superman, mind you-, thinking of Sam getting off. He continues to fabricate all these details in his mind -what Kurt’s dick looks like erect, how fast he likes to be jerked off, where his _sensitive_ zone is- when he hears heavy breathing coming from Kurt’s room.

He stops and waits, scared that perhaps the breathing was like normal sleep breathing, until he hears a very high-pitched groan followed by a gasp that would only be caused by intense pleasure.

Knowing that he has Kurt _just_ where he wants him, Sam increases his speed and thrusts backwards, sending the bed frame crashing against the wall. Go big or go home, right?

\---

  


God, is that like - Sam’s _bed_ hitting the _wall_? Kurt can’t help but groan out loud, tightening his grip over his dick, gathering precome at the tip and smoothing it over his shaft. He wonders how close Sam is to coming, what the consistency of Sam’s jizz might be, how it would taste.

Probably great, Kurt thinks, as he moves his hand faster, slipping his thumb over the head of his cock and reaching down with his free hand to fondle his balls, letting them rest heavy in his hand, stroking over the skin gently to help move himself along.

He’s so fucking close. A wild part of him wonders what it would be like if he and Sam might come at the same time, if he’d even be able to tell. God. He doesn’t want Sam to hear him, but he can’t help but groan - he’s getting closer and closer. There’s a pooling of warmth in the pit of his stomach and his balls are tightening and _shit_. He bites his lip hard to keep from saying anything, but a mental image of Sam and what Sam must look like, what it would look like if Sam’s hand, instead of Kurt’s, were wrapped around his cock and vice versa, how Sam’s breath would feel if he were panting in Kurt’s ear as they got each other off, and -

yes -

there -

 _good_. Kurt comes, _hard_ , all over his hand and his bottoms, accidentally gasping “Sam” as he does so. He lies still, breathing hard for a moment, before pushing his bottoms down. He’s about to wipe off with them and put on a new pair when a thought strikes him and he brings his hand up to his mouth to lick off his come, slowly, imagining that it’s Sam’s and completing his fantasy that they do this together, until every bit of it is off his hand.

He gets up heavily and decides to go to the bathroom to clean up - a warm wet cloth sounds better than his already-sticky pajamas, so he pulls them back up, wincing at the feeling of cooling come against his sensitive cock, and, after grabbing a change of pants, tiptoes out of his room to the bathroom. Once there, he turns the hot tap on and lets it run until it’s lukewarm, then wets a washcloth with it and pulls down his gross pants to start wiping off where his come got onto his skin.

\---

  


_Phew_. Sam comes with a loud grunt, his body slumping hard back against the pillows, causing his bed frame to ever so slightly knock against the wall. He quickly grabs a couple Kleenex from the box next to him before his come spurts onto his sheets and he definitely does _not_ want Carole dealing with that.

Sam dabs the tissue over his oversensitive cock, each motion sending a shiver down his spine. He hisses as he wipes the head free of any remaining traces of jizz and throws the balled Kleenex into the wastebasket across the room.

Content, he closes his eyes, places his hands behind his head and struggles to hear how Kurt was doing. Sam could tell Kurt was very close to orgasming, as he was letting out a short string of moans. He was so pleased with himself right now because it was totally obvious Kurt was being louder than normal tonight. Either he figured out Sam’s plan and was trying to one up him, or the thought of Sam loudly jerking himself off was _exactly_ what Kurt needed to pleasure himself.

Tired from his self-induced post coital haze, Sam fantasizes about what it would be like to make Kurt come. Well, to make him come by being in the same room as him, not whatever they were doing now. He pictures how he would kiss Kurt slowly, yet deeply, and just let his hands explore every inch of his skin, all the way from the tips of his ears to the heels of his feet.

Sam feels himself drifting off to sleep when he receives possibly one of the best wake up calls ever.

“Sam...”

His eyes shoot open and he pulls himself quickly onto his elbows. Sam totally just heard his name. From Kurt’s room. While Kurt was masturbating. There is _no_ way that that had happened, right? Sam remains silent, careful not to move the bed, and places his ear flat against the wall to hear what exactly was happening in one room over. All he can make out is that Kurt is opening something, a desk or dresser probably, followed by the soft click of his bedroom door.

Now that his curiosity is peaked, Sam swiftly pulls up his boxers and darts for the door. He breathes a steady breath before he turns the handle, and pulls it open. Sam sees the faint light from the not-quite-shut bathroom door flood into the hall. Kurt’s bedroom is open, so Sam is pretty damn sure that’s Kurt in the bathroom.

He walks to the door and pushes it open to reveal a deer-in-the-headlights version of Kurt with a washcloth wrapped around his dick.

\---

  


Kurt gasps and drops his washcloth when Sam pushes open the door.

Wait.

Shit.

He quickly moves to cover himself with his hands, but not before noticing Sam’s eyes dart down to his crotch and check him out. God. This is so completely mortifying, why is Sam walking in here now?

“Um,” Kurt says, trying to twist so Sam can’t get a good look at him. “Hi? Do you um. Need something?”

Sam seriously can’t find the words to tell Kurt why he was there. Never did he think that he would catch Kurt like _this_.

“I, uh, I,” is all he really manages to stammer out.

“Because I’m kind of in the middle of, um. Something. Obviously,” Kurt says. He knows he’s bright red right now. He can feel the heat in his face, his skin so hot and tight that it almost feels like he forgot to moisturize and that his face is drying out as he speaks. He doesn’t want to pull the dirty pajamas back up and make him have to clean up again, but he also doesn’t want to give Sam the wrong idea by kicking them off and changing in front of him. Like - thinking about Sam while he jerks off is totally innocent. Sam never has to know about that. Taking his pants off in front of Sam - well. That’s probably another story altogether. And, since Sam is still standing and staring at him, he clears his throat. “Um. Would you mind like - turning around or something?”

Dumbfounded that this _is_ actually happening, Sam does the first thing he can think of and brings his palms over his eyes to shield his gaze from Kurt, who was apparently going to change in front of him? He hears the ruffling of fabrics and Kurt’s feet adjusting on the laminate flooring below.

“Did you call me?” he asks. Sam has to ask him why he really came into the bathroom, mostly because he can’t think of a legitimately good excuse.

“Um,” Kurt says, turning an even brighter red, if possible. He changes quickly, balling up his old pants and throwing them out of sight behind the sink, as if that makes them disappear well enough that they can forget that this ever happened. Once he’s fully clothed again, he clears his throat. “You’re good. I mean, I’m good. I mean - you know. Um. No, I’m - I didn’t... I wasn’t calling you.”

Sam pulls his hands from his face and squints as his eyes adjust to the brightness of the lighting. He sees Kurt’s very obvious blush painted across his cheeks and lets out the breath he was holding.

“Oh, uh, you sure, dude? Like, I was just lying on my bed and I swear I heard you calling my name from your room. You know, cause of the thin walls?”

Kurt takes a deep breath, gathering himself mentally before responding. “I don’t know how you could have heard anything from my room,” he says, pointedly. “Thin walls nonwithstanding.”

He pauses for a moment, debating about whether to retrieve his dirty pajamas or not, then finally leans over to grab them, balling them and the washcloth together in one of his hands so he can take them back to his room, carefully avoiding his come. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t call you.” He takes a deep breath. “Goodnight, Sam,” he says with finality, pushing past the other boy to get the fuck out of the bathroom and the entire awkward situation. He doesn’t want to have to think about Sam _walking in on him wiping come off his dick with a damp washcloth_ ever again in his entire life. That’s just so, so mortifying. And the fact that Sam _heard_ Kurt accidentally say his name?

Kurt’s never going to be able to live this down.

\---

  


Sam watches Kurt hurry back to his room and practically slam the door behind. He shakes his head, completely confused at what the fuck is actually happening this evening. Sam _literally_ caught Kurt with his hand around his cock in the bathroom. He flicks off the light switch and heads towards his bedroom.

Slowly shutting the door, he flops onto his bed face first and hugs his pillow tightly. Sam recalls the events that just happens -he and Kurt masturbated at the same time, came at practically the same time _and_ he got his first peek at Kurt’s dick, which is pretty impressive by the way.

He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. A coy smile develops over his lips as he remembers Kurt’s obviously embarrassed look and his stumbling words.

 _Deny it all you want, Kurt, I_ know _what you were doing._


End file.
